The Coming
by JoeLewis
Summary: The moment everybody has been praying for has come. The Maker returns. But what are the consequences
1. Chapter 1

The night of the Coming started off as any ordinary one in Minrathous, the capital of Tevinter. The dusk was one of mid-winter - freezing. The huge buildings of the main city cast gigantic shadows far into the distance. The Grand Tower of the Magi was standing ominously at the centre of the Magi complex. It was silent, deathly almost. Inside the First Archon was busy herding his slaves into the experimental hall. He approached his assistant. "Seram, we need utter secrecy in this operation. Nobody outside this tower is to know, not even the king. He would attempt to stop us. See to it that anyone who finds out dies." he ordered. "I will prepare the slaves."

Slowly he ascended the steps into the experimental hall and put him self into a casting pose. A hundred or so elven slaves glanced nervously at him.

"Retimo, nora jersu… Knacka!" he said, casting the spell. The slaves dropped dead as one, while the First Archon disappeared with a blinding flash.

When he entered the Fade he was not prepared for what he encountered. He barely had time to blink before he was attacked by some sort of malicious force. "Foolish mortal, you dare enter the Black City?" boomed a beautiful, but wrathful voice. "After all you have done to your world I do not see how you could be stupid enough to do it again!"

Fear consumed the First Archon, he attacked everything in sight.

"STOP!" commanded the voice.

The First Archon froze. "W-What are you?" he asked.

"I am the Maker." stated the entity.

The First Archon realised what he had done. "Beg pardon, Lord. Mercy! Mercy!"

"Nay, you fool. Your kind has never been more than a blight upon the land. I had hoped releasing the darkspawn would destroy you but it seems I must do it all myself… You shall be my first kill. Be grateful for you shall not suffer like the others will."

The Archon burst into white flames, his screams pierced the eerie silence of the Fade as the Maker crossed the Veil.


	2. Chapter 2

Aedan Cousland woke with a start. He was confused, he had had a dream, something about the Maker… But never mind, it was a dream, nothing more.

_Rat-a-tat-tat! _Someone was knocking on his door. "Enter."

"Sir! I have an urgent letter from Queen Anora in Denerim!" burst out a young, enthusiastic private, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Thank you, return to your duties."

She handed him the letter and hurried out of the Warden-Commanders bedchambers.

Aedan quickly ripped open the letter, tearing the Theirin seal.

The letter read:

_Warden-Commander Aedan,_

_I write to you with grave news. King Alistair has disappeared in the Free Marches. He was going there to settle a dispute between Tevinter and the Free Marches. I would send over legions of men to search for him but that could be misread as a declaration of war. I beg you to go and investigate. Wynne and my father seem intent on going there with you, your fourth companion may be of you own choosing. Come to meet Wynne and Father in Denerim by tomorrow morning. Good luck._

_Your Queen,_

_Anora Mac Tir._

Tevinter… Something seemed odd about that… Something to do with his dream maybe? But it was irrelevant at present. He immediately set off for Sigruns room. He knew exactly who else would be coming with him.

Within two hours Aedan and Sigrun were at the gates with an armed guard of a dozen Wardens who had just been sent from Orlais. They immediately set out, riding hard to reach the capital. Despite Seneschal Varels reassurances they were good men, the Orlesians seemed a little frosty towards Aedan. They had just left the cover of the Wending Wood when they were stopped by _something in the middle of the road._

_It was ten feet tall, roughly man shaped and it shone like the light of a million stars. Its face was beautiful, yet its expression was one of someone with dogs droppings under its nose._

"_Halt, Mortals! Which one of you is the Warden-Commander? I can sense the taint is stronger in that one…." he pointed at Aedan. "Is it you?"_

"_Yes, and who may you be? Some sort of Fade Spirit? Or Demon?" asked Aedan._

"_Ignorant fool. I am not a spirit or a demon. I come with a message from the Risen." it corrected._

"_Who?" asked Aedan, confused._

"_I believe the mortals call him the Maker. But that is irrelevant. He has long watched you from his throne in the heavens and doesn't wish to be your enemy. He asks an alliance." the messenger recited._

"_For what purpose?" inquired Aedan, fascinated._

"_To undo what he has wrought. The mortals will perish, but you may stay with him forever young and powerful." replied the messenger._

"_I decline." Aedan said, ending the conversation. _

_He drew his sword._

"_Then I am sorry for what I have to do." The messenger clapped and all the Wardens burst into black flames._

_The messenger clapped again and vanished, going to tell his master what had occurred._


	3. Chapter 3

Aedan lay writhing and screaming upon the road. The black flames didn't only scorch his physical body, it felt as if they were consuming his soul. Then the cold came, beautiful cold, nice cold. He saw a familiar face leaning over him. "It is I, Morrigan. Are you alright? I heard you screaming on the road."

"Morrigan…" Aedan mumbled.

"Oh, you're useless like this, I'll take you to Denerim."

Aedan passed out.

"Warden Commander, are you alright?" said a kindly, old voice.

"Wynne?" asked Aedan.

"It is Wynne."

Aedan opened his eyes. Wynnes concerned face was leaning over him.

"Where am I? What is the time? Are the Wardens alive?" he asked, his memories coming back.

"You are in the royal hospital in Fort Drakon, it is ten past midnight. And no, you were the only survivor. But of what?" enquired Wynne.

"Some kind of spirit form I believe, though it denied it. Being a spirit I mean. It claimed it came from the Maker himself, to ask an alliance. To destroy all mortals." he recounted.

"This is grave news indeed, what was it like, the messenger?" asked Wynne.

"It was very tall, man shaped and shone with the light of a million stars." Aedan told her.

"Ah, interesting… I believe I may know what it was, definitely not a spirit. I shall research this in the Royal Library. But go to sleep for a couple of hours, we should set of for the Free Marches tomorrow. I'll order a ship and get some provisions."

Wynne walked to the door and had nearly left when Aedan remembered what had happened the day before. "Where is Morrigan? She found me on the road." Aedan asked.

"Morrigan? I haven't seen her for months. Anyway you were delirious you probably imagined it." she told him. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, where is Lady Anora?" Aedan enquired.

"She left for the Circle Tower yesterday. Irving had an accident in the Fade and… well… died. She has to go and oversee the transition to the new First Enchanter."

"Ok Wynne that will be all." Aedan said.

Wynne left the room and Aedan drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning he was awoken by Leliana who had apparently stayed with him the whole day after he had been brought in and had only left at eleven because Wynne threatened to burn her shoes. She had a lot of questions about what had happened, he told her all he could remember, except Morrigan, it was probably all in his head anyway. By midday, they were nearly ready to set sail, the ship was ready for them, and Sten (the companion who had been chosen to replace Sigrun) was standing grumbling at the docks. But Wynne hadn't arrived yet. They had nearly been there for an hour and Aedan was about to send out a search party for her when she turned up. Wynne looked pale and walked with a limp.

"Wynne, what is wrong? Do you need me to get a doctor?" Leliana fussed.

"No, I'm fine, I'll tell you on the ship." Wynne said.

"But -" Leliana whined.

"NO!" Wynne snapped. "It isn't safe out here."

Leliana shut up immediately. "Sorry."

They boarded the ship.

The ship was very luxurious. It had soft sofas with silk cushions, the floor was very nice on the feet and the larder was stocked up with items such as candied grapes and dates, but also had some other, more useful rations.

"Do you like it?" asked Leliana. "I designed it myself. Of course its not a warship, but if Ferelden sent even one warship to the Free Marches they would declare war. You know how picky they are."

"Its wonderful." Aedan commented.

"Now will you tell us what is wrong?" Leliana asked.

"Yes. When I was researching the thing that ambushed you, one of them appeared. It tried to kill me. It said I was foolish and that I was weak. It was about to kill me when my Spirit intervened. They had a fight. It was terrible and I fear many ancient tomes were destroyed. In the end my spirit won, though it was greatly weakened. It said that it could support me for little more than a year. I am afraid, but I must be strong." Wynne recounted.

"Did you find out what it was?" asked Aedan.

"Yes, it's true name is a Faralor, which translates as Children of the Stars. A construct of starlight, an old weapon of the elves. They are invincible, the only thing that could possibly harm them would be at least a dozen mages casting together. They have a weakness though, an incredible flaw. I am surprised the Elves of old did not fix it. Once their master dies, they do." Wynne explained. "They also can track people. They can sense souls, feel them. Which means they know where me and you are."

She pointed her finger at Aedan.

"So I suggest we stop off at Amaranthine, drop them off and set off for the Free Marches." Aedan suggested.

"No! I will not have it! We would be cowards to leave you. I cannot abandon you." Leliana stated stubbornly.

"I agree with the woman." Sten said.

"Alright, we agree don't we Wynne." he winked discreetly at her.

"Yes, we do." Wynne agreed.

"I think I shall go into the storeroom for a bit of lunch." he said.

He walked down the length of the ship and had his midday meal.

It was dusk and they had just passed Blackmarsh, which had changed so much since Aedan had went there looking for Kristoff. Aedan was in his cabin and was dozing off at his desk when there was a knock at his door.

"Enter."

"Warden-Commander," Wynne poked her head round the door. "May I have a word?"

"Certainly Wynne, what do you wish to discuss?" he asked

"We cannot continue on our journey with Leliana and Sten. They are both skilled warriors but they would be no match for a Faralor. They would flock to us like moths to a flame. So I suggest we send them both ashore to get some news in Amaranthine. While they are gone we sail north." Wynne said.

"Yes it has been troubling me also. I believe your plan is acceptable." Aedan agreed. "We shall do it tomorrow. Good night Wynne."

"Good night, Warden-Commander."

The next morning they woke up and continued sailing until they reached Amaranthine. Wynne and Aedan had persuaded Leliana and Sten to go ashore, saying they would watch out for bandits or thieves. They were preparing to sail off when the wind suddenly jumped up and a black mist began to materialise around the front of the ship. Wynne was standing alone right next to it. "Commander!" she called. "There's a black mist on deck!"

Aedan came running.

Hovering above the prow was a Faralor. Not just any Faralor though, it was black and at least twice as tall as the other one he had encountered.

Wynne lifted her staff and Aedan drew his sword.

"Stop!" The Faralor roared. "I only wish to speak."

"Stay back, Faralor!" Wynne retorted.

"Me? A mere Faralor? Fools. I am the One. My masters first ever creation and most trusted advisor. I was here before the Fade spirits or the Mortals." It scoffed. "Anyway to business. My master has ignored my advice and wishes to ask an alliance. Though not for the same cause. He wishes to destroy the darkspawn. Nothing more."

"But the darkspawn are disappearing. That's what is being said in Orzammar." Aedan said.

"They are retreating further into the Deep Roads, searching for another of the Old Gods to corrupt. Led by the Architect." The One explained.

"But… The Architect is our ally. He wants to stop the Blights." Aedan said.

"He told you that to give him time to search." The One said. "Come with me and you and the Risen can speak."

"Despite my doubts, I agree to talk. As long as that is all." Aedan agreed.

"Let us go then." The One grabbed Aedan and Wynnes arms with two black, wispy hands.

Aedan blinked and in that instant they were not on the boat anymore, but in what looked like an old Tevinter palace.

The room was luxurious. It has mable floors with pillars of gold in two rows on either side of a black silk rug. At the end of the column sat a throne made of emerald. On it sat a blurry figure which seemed to flicker and glow.

"Greetings, Commander." the figure boomed. "I see you have seen reason at last."

He began to laugh.

"I see you fell for it. Well done, child. You may go." The One silently left the room. "You are stupid, Warden-Commander just like your brethren. And your king."

"Alistair!" Aedan exclaimed, drawing his sword. "Where is he? What have you done to him?"

"Oh, you'll be seeing him soon enough. They are weak, though. The only one who put up a fight was the Architect but he was no match for me." The Risen boasted. "Now, sleep…"

Aedan and Wynne fell to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Aedan woke. He immediately knew he was in the Fade. This time it took the form of some sort of chapel, twisted like such things are in the Fade. It was dark and lit only by a single candle. His head felt odd, like he had a hangover but worse.

"So you finally awake, Warden-Commander." someone said next to him. He turned over and looked up. It was the Architect.

"Hello. Do you know what's going on?" Aedan asked.

"Not any more than you do. I was doing a few experiments in my new dwelling when some messenger turned up from some God. He said that the God could make all darkspawn gain their minds. So I went and after a brief conversation, found myself here." the Architect recounted.

"The same happened to me." Aedan said.

"I believe that some of your fellows wish to speak." The Architect said, pointing into the gloom.

Aedan peered through it and saw the pale, drawn faces of Alistair, the Warden-Commanders of every nation in Thedas (10 including Aedan), Wynne and the First Warden herself.

"Alistair! Are you all right? What is everyone doing here?" Aedan asked.

"I'm OK," Alistair said timidly. "We were captured in exactly the same way as you."

"But why are we here?" Aedan asked

"I have been researching a very interesting theory in the past few months." The Orlesian Commander. "It is to do with giving Fade Spirits their own physical form. To do this living things, usually rabbits and the like, must be trapped in the Fade. The Fade Spirit then absorbs the lingering life force in the body which powers the Spirits new body. The stronger the life force the stronger the body."

"But what has that got to do with our predicament?" Aedan asked.

"The Maker is pretty much a Fade spirit, and whatever it plans to do, it needs a body, a strong body. The Maker has fourteen of the strongest life forces in Thedas trapped, ready to be absorbed!" The Orlesian explained.

"So we're trapped. How do we get out?" Alistair asked.

"I have been trying to work out how, but my spells never seem to work." The First Warden commented. "According to several scholars to leave the Fade you need a powerful mage, and at least a dozen people with the taint. Which we have got now you and Wynne have arrived…"

"But if I am correct First Warden, that power would be beyond any pure mage. Are you suggesting we resort to blood magic?" Wynne asked, eyes flashing.

"Yes, if it is absolutely necessary Wardens are permitted to use blood magic." The First Warden explained.

Aedan looked around, there were four mages among the grim crowd. The First Warden, the Nevarran Warden-Commander, Wynne and The Architect

"Well there are four candidates, who shall it be?" Aedan observed.

"You do not understand, Commander," The Architect said. "A little bit of blood magic would do no harm to the soul, but on this scale… It would kill the caster and the sacrifice."

"Who now would volunteer?" The Architect asked.

"Certainly not me!" The First Warden exclaimed. "I'm far too important!"

Aedan glared at her.

"Not me either!" The Nevarran Commander cried.

"Well, it is now apparent that it shall be me and the Architect who die." Wynne said. "I do not fear it, nor despise the other two for not volunteering. I was going to die anyway. I am glad I could die being useful."

"I shall be the caster," The Architect announced. "I have practiced blood magic before, and am experienced in such things."

"So what do we have to do?" Aedan asked.

"First, twelve people with the taint must each put one drop of their own blood onto the sacrifices forehead," The Architect said.

Aedan and the other Wardens drew daggers and pierced their skin. The blood ran down the blade. Slowly, Aedan stepped forward and led a single drop of blood drip onto Wynne's forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Could your spirit not intervene?"

"No," she replied. "The fight with the Faralor has left it weak, it would take millennia for it to recover and unfortunately we haven't got that long."

"I wish you luck, friend. When all this is over, the bards will sing of Wynne the Valiant, who sacrificed her life for her friends. Farewell." Aedan said.

"Thank you, Aedan. Farewell." Wynne said.

The first stage of the ritual went by in solemn silence.

"Now, I will need to begin casting. Beware though, when you arrive back in the real world, you will be in the same place that you entered the Fade. Secure the hall in which the Maker sits with physical and magical wards. He is extremely weak with weapons, but his sorcery is strong, so I suggest you use anti magic spells. I will begin casting now."

At that the Architect stood still and straight, mumbling odd words.

After what seemed like hours but could easily have been minutes, the Architect stopped his mumblings and lifted his staff. Then everything around them began to glow and shimmer. Suddenly, Aedan was spinning in an endless void of howling winds and darkness. Then it stopped. Aedan found himself back in the Tevinter hall.

"Everyone bar the doors" The First Warden beckoned the Nevarran Commander. "Pomias, help me put up magical wards and glyphs to guard against attack."

The Wardens rushed to their tasks.

"What is going on?" Boomed the blurry figure of the Maker. "My children! I require aid!"

The god had to wait a moment for a reply while the Wardens completed their tasks.

"There is no use calling your pets now, the wards we just put up will hold for weeks if need be." said the First Warden. "And don't even think about using magic, the wards neutralise all magic within their bounds and I don't think you are up to much with a sword."

"We know why you trapped us," Aedan said. "But what did you plan to do once you'd got your almighty body?"

"I will set out to conquer this mistake I made so long ago. Then I will destroy it and start my creation again." The Maker explained.

"How come you are telling us?" Asked the First Warden.

"Because you aren't going to escape and as soon as my children destroy your wards you'll be back in the Fade, ready to be absorbed." The Maker gloated.

"Where are we?" Asked Aedan.

"We are in Tevinter. To be more specific we are on the top floor of the Grand Tower of the Magi. We are currently in control of this nation, albeit in secret. The King and the Divine leader of the Chantry have been killed and replaced by Faralor's in human form! Once we have sufficient numbers we slaughter the mortal population of this nation then set out to conquer Thedas!" the Maker explained.

"You can't think that you will succeed, surely?" Alistair asked, incredulously.

"Oh, yes, certainly!" The Maker exclaimed. "Have you not seen my children in battle? They are impervious to any type of blade, arrow or spell! Their wills alone could burn men alive. Armies are no problem only the leaders. I brought you all here for two purposes. One, to absorb your life forces, and two, to crush the morale of your men. When I invade no one will stand in my way!"

"You're forgetting something." The First Warden said confidently.

"What?" The Maker asked warily.

"You are a Fade Spirit, yes? And even apprentices know how to banish or imprison them." The First Warden said.

"Begone Fade Spirit! You have no authority over the mortals of this realm!" She said, magic crackling in her words. "The Veil awaits your return!"

At that an intense light shone from the Maker, blinding everyone in the room. The light vanished in a matter of seconds taking the blurry figure on the throne with it.

"Have you killed it?" asked the Warden-Commander of Tevinter.

"No, I have merely banished it," The First Warden replied. "It cannot return to this room because of the magic wards, but it can and will be summoned again by its 'Children'."

"How come you could use magic with the wards?" Asked Aedan, confused.

"That spell was so simple it barely even registers as magic, a non-mage could cast it with enough concentration. In fact it is very similar to some skills that the Templar's use." The First Warden replied.

"How do we get out of this place then?" Asked Aedan, looking around the room.

"We cannot get out through the stairs, we have secured this floor but the status of the tower below remains uncertain." The First Warden stated. "I believe there may be another way out, but it will not be easy."

"What is it?" Asked Alistair.

"It involves jumping out of a window supported only by spells of strengthening. We will land very hard and very quickly but my spells should support us." The First Warden stated, lacking conviction.

"Should?" Asked Alistair.

"Would you rather wait here for the Faralors to return?" The First Warden snapped. "This is the best plan at present and you will obey me."

"Yes ma'am." Alistair replied, seeming to shrink under her glare.

"Then lets begin casting Pomias." The First Warden suggested.

The Nevarran Commander approached her superior and linked arms, both faces reddening with the strain of protecting so many people.

However, after a few minutes they were ready. The easiest window for twelve people to jump from would be a huge stained glass one at the end of the hall. Pomias, the Nevarran Commander slung a fireball at it, blowing its depiction of Andraste's death to shards.

The twelve Wardens stood on the edge. And jumped.


End file.
